Trust
by NikoStarr
Summary: Sam and Dean go back to Hell, this time willingly. They have to find and take back Sam's soul, but they have a few obstacles to overcome and once again, their trust is put to the test. Takes place in season six. Rated T just to be safe.
1. Trust

Disclaimer- I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters.

"We're not playing your games anymore, Crowley. We got you monsters, now give us Sam's soul." Dean glared at the King of Hell.

"My, my, someone's grouchy today. And I didn't hear the magic word." Crowley said.

"Here's your magic word." Dean reached inside his coat pocket and retrieved his pistol but before he could pull off the safety and aim it, the gun vanished in his hand. He looked at Crowley who just smirked.

"Relax, Dean. You'll hurt yourself. Or I will. It's up to you, really." He turned to the taller brother. "Now, Sam, I made you a deal. You bring me monsters and I'll go fish out your soul. While I fully intended to follow through on that promise, something's come up."

Sam stepped closer, as furious as his brother. "I don't care what's come up, you lying bastard!"

"Hey!" Crowley yelled back, face turning red, before letting his tone return to his normal sardonicism. "Settle, soulless. I can't get your soul for you, but you can get it yourself."

Dean looked slightly confused and asked, "How are we supposed to go into Lucifer's cage and find a soul? What does a soul even look like?"

"Yeah," said Sam, still frustrated, "You said you're the only one who could get in there."

The demon looked at his reflection in the tacky, oversized mirror taking up an entire wall of the motel room and straightened his expensive silk tie. He spoke to the brothers he saw reflected in the mirror. "I said I'm the only one with the power to get in there. But since I have more important things to take care of than putting Humpty Dumpty back together again, I'm going to lend that power to you two. You'll scamper down to Hell, sneak into the cage without waking up the beasts, grab your precious soul and return back to Earth in one piece. Think you can handle that?"

"You're going to give us power that only the King of Hell has? What's the catch?" Dean crossed his arms and regarded Crowley skeptically.

"Trust." Crowley turned and looked at Dean emphatically. "Something you should try doing once in a blue moon. I'm hoping you've known me long enough to realize that I'm not a completely bad guy. Occasionally, I do want to help you." His voice was firm and his face, serious. It seemed he really did want to help this time. However, both Winchesters were too wary to agree just yet. Crowley sighed. "Whether you take this opportunity, or not, it makes no difference to me, but you've already made me late, so I'll be going."

"Wait." It was Sam who said it. Dean shot a questioning look at his brother. Ignoring the obvious "no" vibe Dean was sending him, Sam continued. "We'll do it. But we're not hunting for you anymore. Deal?" Crowley burst into laughter. Sam and Dean exchanged confused looks. "What?"

After the fit subsided a bit, Crowley shook his head and sighed. "Sorry, sorry. You just caught me off guard that's all. You know, the irony of you offering me a deal." He chuckled a bit more but the unamused faces quickly sobered him and he rolled his eyes, sighing. "Fine, deal. Shall we kiss on it?" This was said sarcastically, but Dean's eyes grew wide and he shook his head ferociously.

Sam replied with a mocking smirk. "We'll take your word for it. We trust you."

Crowley sneered at the man's facetious reply. "Alright. You have one hour, Hell time."

"That's only, like, thirty seconds here." Sam said.

"Approximately. But it won't matter. The clock doesn't start until you're down there."

"I told you there was a catch. What if we don't find it in time?" Dean asked.

"Then you're stuck with the shell of your brother for the rest of your life. Anymore questions?"

"Yeah, actually." Dean said. "Where's my gun?"

"Did you check your pocket?" Dean did so and found the pistol right where it always is. "Okay, all set? Good. Be on your way, now." In an instant, Crowley was gone.

Sam looked around, searching for anything different. Nothing. "Uhhh, how exactly do we get to Hell?"

Dean opened the door and peered out into the chilly night. "Maybe there's a highway." He smirked. "Or we have to go on a sinning spree. I think there are some girls a few rooms down." Dean chuckled at whatever obscene thoughts had crossed his mind. The smile vanished when he looked back from his brother to the open door.

"That would take entirely too long." Crowley stood in the doorway. He strode past Dean and stood beside the big mirror again. Pointing to it, he said. "There, your very own portal to Hell. Have fun." With that, Crowley vanished once more.

Dean eyed the mirror, doubtfully. "Ladies first." He said, gesturing for Sam to step up to the mirror.

Hesitantly, Sam approached the mirror. It looked exactly the same as it had before. He reached out, intending to push it like a door and was surprised to see his hand pass right through. Retracting his arm immediately, Sam looked at his brother. "It's hot."

"It's Hell, Sammy. Let's just get this over with."

Sam nodded, took a deep breath, and then stepped into the mirror. Dean watched his brother walk right through the solid surface of the mirror and suddenly wished he hadn't. A pang of anxiety washed over him. He was about to go back to the place he hoped he would never see again. The place he secretly prayed he would never have to go back to. He almost didn't follow.

But it was for Sammy. It was the only way he would get his brother back, his whole brother. The entire time he had spent with Sam recently, Dean had felt more alone than he did standing in that room right now.

Without another thought, Dean stepped through the mirror, into Hell.


	2. Soul Searching

The underworld isn't quite how most people imagine. It isn't a molten canyon inside or beneath Earth with pits of fire all over the place. There's no moat of lost souls or ferryman to pay. There aren't even different levels of Hell for the categories of sin. It's just one big slaughter house, full of torture stations connected through darkness and screams. It even reminded Dean a little bit of the movie Hostel. Only, it was much, much worse.

Dean stood beside Sam, staring at the sights all around them. They saw demons in their human forms hacking at other humans, laughing while they did so. Some demons wore their true forms: monstrous, deformed, hideous things that ran about tormenting people. Men and women were strung up by chains and ropes with their stomachs or chests ripped wide open or hooks and knives sticking through them.

The scenery was dismal and gruesome. It made Dean's head spin and he felt so many things at once, -pity, fear, sadness, anger, disgust, shame, hate, hopelessness- that he didn't know whether he wanted to throw up, cry, or shoot something. He looked at Sam, expecting to be able to read his expression. The soulless man wore no facial expression; his features remained calm as they took in the chaos. Sam looked up to see a black sky of demon smoke swarming for as far as one could see.

Finally, he looked at Dean. "Do you think they can see us?"

Dean shook his head, not trusting himself to open his mouth yet. He took a moment, staring at a spot on Sam's shirt, trying to clear his mind. "Don't think so. They'd be on us already if they could. Let's go."

Sam followed his brother down an impossibly dark path. As they walked, Dean kept his head down. He was obviously affected by memories of his forty years here. Sam, however, couldn't keep his eyes off the grisly happenings. It's not that they attracted them, but they also didn't repel him. He knew he should be bothered by what he was seeing, he wanted to be bothered by it, yet no matter how he tried, he couldn't feel a thing. More than ever, Sam wanted his soul back.

Further down the path, the amount of people and demons they saw decreased, until Sam and Dean were alone in the darkness. The path had turned into a kind of corridor made of shadows. The floor felt like concrete and the one time Sam brushed his arm against the wall, he made contact with what seemed like shards of glass and chunks of sharp metal or barbs. Every now and then, they would hear the echo of screams or hellhounds barking and howling, causing Dean to flinch or cringe. Sam realized how much of a toll this was taking on Dean, and he had the faint idea that his old self would feel sorry.

At one point, it occurred to Sam that he had no idea where they were going. "Dean, how do you know where Lucifer's cage is?"

Dean shrugged. "I remember. Don't you?"

Sam shook his head. "No. I was inside the cage and I wasn't there for long. I never saw any of this."

"Well then, welcome to Hell. I'll be your tour guide." He said glumly.

Soon, it seemed that they were climbing a steepening incline that wrapped around a mountain. When Sam finally asked Dean how much time he thought remained, Dean supposed they only had about half the hour left. Just as they both began to doubt Dean's ability to find the cage, they stumbled into a huge room.

Everything was a bright, blinding white color that hurt the men's eyes. Once they had adjusted, Sam looked around the white cathedral-like hall. Across form where they stood, was a silver vault door with an inscription etched in the center. There were piles of skeletal remains scattered throughout. The skulls from humans, dogs, cattle, and unidentifiable creatures lay scorched and splintered. A low thrum reverberated throughout the room, sending a chilling sensation through the humans.

"I think I can hear my soul, Dean." Sam said, referring to the odd whisper he heard and felt.

"No." Dean's face was pallid and sick looking as he shook his head slowly. "Demons. They're coming. And fast." Quickly, Dean pulled out his gun and his knife and took on a defensive stance.

Following Dean's lead, Sam armed himself with his own pistol and positioned himself back to back with his brother. Suddenly a thick stream of demon smoke trailed in, swirling angrily over their heads, the pure white walls contrasting with the black mist above. The whining whisper grew louder with the expanding dark cloud. Demons appeared with wicked grins and cackles, surrounding the Winchesters.

They began closing in, hands, claws and knife points outstretched, nearly raking the two men's chests as they pressed against each other more closely in an attempt to evade the encroaching threat. Heart pounding and eyes clenched tight, Dean emptied a round into the hungry demon mob with a roar.

Hissing and screeching, the monsters backed away. "I think you made them angry." Sam whispered over his shoulder.

He was answered with an infuriated glare from Dean and then a burst of flame erupted, causing them both to shield their faces. When they looked, they realized there was now a wall of fire surrounding them. It cast an eerie light over their faces and the abandoned bones on the floor. Whenever a gap appeared in the blazing sheet, they could see the terrifying beasts on the other side. There was no escape and the circle was growing smaller.

Through the flames, Sam could see the glimmering silver door. The demons hadn't encircled them on that side; they were afraid to go near the cage.

Dean jumped back when a demon swiped at him and fear shot through him when he didn't feel himself bump into the wall that is his brother. He whipped around and met flames. No Sam.

"Dean! Jump through!" Sam called from nearby. Dean peered through the fire, searching for Sam but was unable to find him. As he peered through the flames, a silhouette appeared, but it was too wide and not quite tall enough to be Sam. The shadow began to split into two, then three and it continued to make copies of itself. Dean stared in horror as each shadow took on a detailed form.

He saw his mother and his father. They both looked at him with expressions that suggested disappointment. Jo, Ellen and Ash peered at him angrily and ashamed. In an instant, they all vanished and merged into the rest of the shadows, faces that Dean didn't recognize.

"Get away from me." Dean growled in warning. The strange faces glared at him and an awful screaming filled Dean's ears. The sounds were pained and filled with agony, and they were what Dean remembered. These were the faces of the souls he had tortured. Memories of his previous visit, that he had locked away, washed over him.

Clenching his eyes shut, Dean urged the nightmare to end. He could see nothing but blood and feel it, warm on his hands. He remembered the feeling, the satisfaction, of hearing them cry and beg for him to stop as he carved into them, imagining it was someone else he was torturing. He pretended he was slicing into the skin of his father, paying him back for forcing him into this life. He pictured his knife cutting into Azazel for all the pain he caused their family, but the one he wanted to use the blade on most was Alastair. He wanted to put an end to those infuriating remarks and make him pay for turning him into this.

His stomach tied itself into knots and he felt nausea creep over him. No matter how hard he tried, the images still replayed in his mind and the screams still echoed in his ears. He couldn't escape the past.

Dean covered his ears in a fruitless attempt to drown it all out. He was tired of the guilt and the shame. He was tired of this haunting him, having to hide it every day. He wanted to repent, to forget and to make up for it all. He wanted to go back to before. Before the angels and the demons. He knew that getting Sam's soul back would be the beginning.

Sam looked back to the flames, but it was impossible to see his brother. He turned his attention to the silver door in front of him. He was near enough now that he could make out the inscriptions. The symbols made up some kind of Enochian sigil that he had never seen before. Curious, Sam traced one of the shapes with his fingers and they immediately began to glow. Something in him knew what to do, and he let it take control.

He pressed his whole palm flat against the surface. The glowing symbols shone brighter in response and Sam hardly noticed when he started speaking. He began chanting in Enochian, a long, complex recitation that he had no idea he could even say. When the chant ended, Sam backed away, and the door slid open.

A hand closed around Dean's arm, and he tried to resist and pull away but he was dragged into the fire, nevertheless. Dean opened his eyes, amazed that he could, considering he thought he would be engulfed in hellfire. The hand gripping him, he discovered, was Sam and the flames hadn't affected him in the least. He didn't have time to dwell on this though; he was being hauled into the open cage.

Once inside, Sam shut the door behind them. When he turned back around, he looked at Dean. "You okay?" he whispered.

Dean nodded , but his eyes showed that he was still shaken by what he had seen. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He looked around. "The cage is an actual dungeon?" Dean asked incredulously.

"Dean? Sam?"

The brothers' gazes flew to the corner where the voice had come from. Adam was lying on the ground. His breathing was ragged and he didn't move when the two approached.

"Adam. Where's Lucifer?" Sam demanded.

Weakly, Adam pointed up. Above them, where there should've been a ceiling, was light, too bright to look at. It was the light of angels in their true form. They could hear the same high pitch tone that sometimes occurred with Cas, only mitigated by the distance.

"Michael is fighting him. They haven't stopped." He coughed, trying to clear away the pain that simply talking caused him. "Please. You have to get me out of here."

"Don't worry. We'll figure out how to bring you back." Dean tried to sound sure. Sam found it easier to ignore his poor half-brother, and looked around. Dean stood. "Sam. What do we do? I don't exactly see any souls lying around."

"I don't know, Dean!" Sam snapped. "Lucifer probably has it with him, and even if we did find a way to get to him, we don't stand a chance." He huffed and angrily ran his fingers through his hair.

"Well, we have to do something! We have ten minutes to get your soul and then find a freaking way out."

They both had nearly forgotten Adam was there, until he spoke again. "Guys… I think I can help."

Adam explained his plan to them, and they were hesitant to accept, but circumstances made it impossible to object. Dean helped Adam up, so that he could stand with the wall supporting him, then gave him an apologetic look, before leaving him to join Sam.

Mustering up what little strength he still had, Adam looked towards the far off angels and yelled. "Hey, Douchebags! Stop fighting; God doesn't love either of you! He loves us!"

In a rush, the light began to grow brighter and the ringing intensified, forcing Sam and Dean to shield themselves. Adam did nothing; he had already accepted his fate and he was going to go out with his pride. As the light grew nearer, a smaller orange orb became visible in the center. The air seemed to vibrate with energy.

Lucifer was close now, aiming straight for Adam. The noise became so powerful that Sam almost didn't hear when Adam gave the signal. "Sam, Now!"

Sam leapt forward, eyes still closed, and disappeared into the light as Lucifer came crashing down. He felt intense heat as he passed through the fallen angel's translucent form, and he squeezed his eyes even tighter, grinding his teeth as he felt his skin burning. He was thankful that the sensation only lasted a second, and he hit the ground, rolling away from Adam and Lucifer.

He turned away from the majority of the blinding light and stared down at his hands. Between his fingers, orange light shone through, pulsing with energy. A blast wave erupted and Sam took cover again.

All of the sudden, everything was still. Sam opened his eyes and found himself on the floor of the motel room. He saw Dean a few feet away, in the same state as himself.

"Time's up!" Crowley stared down at them expectantly. "How'd it go?"

Dean looked over, speaking softly, "Sam? ….Did you get it?"

He looked down at his hands where the orange glow had been only a second ago. "I had it." Sam whispered in disbelief. "I…thought I had it."

The room took on an air of devastation at the news. Even Crowley didn't know what to say. Dean slid over to where Sam sat on the floor, unsure of how to console someone who didn't feel. Trying to think of _something_ to say, he looked over at his little brother and saw something unexpected.

Growing up, Dean had always thought it was funny that whenever Sam got mad or frustrated, instead of yelling and punching like Dean, he would try to hold in his anger until he broke down and cried. It was just something Sam did, that he never grew out of. Until, of course, his soul was lost-which is why when Dean saw tears forming in his brother's eyes, he knew they had succeeded. Sam's soul was intact and he was back to his old self.

Dean let out a sigh of relief and shook his head. Crowley rolled his eyes. "Oh, joy. I forgot how much I missed your pathetic whining." The demon said sarcastically. "Really, you humans and your souls." He muttered as he vanished.

A grin broke out over Dean's face and he hugged his brother for the first time in over a year. "Good to have you back, Sammy."


End file.
